


A Haven for Lost Things

by jootaroo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, frostmaster, idk what else to tag, theres no ACTUAL smut but like this is still mad nsfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:11:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jootaroo/pseuds/jootaroo
Summary: Loki's couple weeks on Sakaar before Thor got there. He's sad and gay





	1. Chapter 1

“Ah!” Loki screamed, as he was flung out of the bifrost. The colors of the bifrost faded as he was flung further and further from it, into the darkness of space. Until suddenly, light.

Loki thought he was dead. He had to be. He had gotten extremely  _ lucky  _ the first time he survived falling from the bifrost, there was no way he’d be able to do it again. Loki barely had time to process the light until he crashed into an enormous pile of...garbage. He lay there, aching, until he realized what had happened. He wasn’t dead, he had somehow gone through a wormhole, and was now on one of the galaxys...garbage dumps. Ha, just his luck, he was beginning to wish he had just died.

Loki felt a rush of pain. He looked down at his abdomen and saw his own dagger, which Hela had thrown at him, was sticking out of his side. Ah, so that’s where all this pain was coming from. He winced, and flicked his hand to make the dagger disappeared. He of course knew that pulling a dagger from a stab wound only made it worse, but he wasn't particularly fond of the idea of it sticking out of him until who knows when. And he wasn’t sure if he was going to need his dagger to to defend himself on whatever unknown land he found himself in. Besides, the dagger didn’t seem to have hit anything vital. It hurt, but he's felt worse before. He would probably be fine after some rest.

For now, Loki had to stop the bleeding, so he tore off some fabric from his jacket and pressed it on the wound, which was gushing blood. Ugh, this outfit was ruined. He could always conjure another one, but he preferred to be wearing nice clean clothes under all his illusions.

Loki sighed sharply as he continued pressing the fabric to his wound. Everything was  _ fine _ , on Asgard. He was ruling as the king he  _ should  _ have been. Everything was going  _ great _ , as usual, until Thor showed up. Loki was a great king. A better king than _Thor_ ever would’ve been. Thor even admitted it himself, once, back when he was still mourning Loki’s “death”. That oaf, he would have led Asgard into the ground had he--wait, where had his oaf gone?

Loki looked around, but no sign of Thor. Nothing but garbage, and the only things that appeared to be falling out of the wormholes that littered the sky were...more garbage.

Loki sat up, gazing at the mountains of trash for who knows how long. He hoped, pleaded to whoever was listening, that he would see Thor fall somewhere in this trash heap. Thor would find him, yell at him for summoning the bifrost, but see his wound, and start fawning over him. Then Loki would all too dramatically insist he was fine, that it was just a flesh wound, and they would be on their way. They’d find a way back to Asgard again, and figure out a way to stop Hela. That’s how things would go. That’s how things always went with Thor.

But, Thor never came.

That must mean that Hela had...probably killed him. Loki began to realize the severity of his situation. Hela was probably on Asgard, and Thor was either dead or would be soon. Hela would destroy the entire kingdom, run amuk amongst the nine realms, and Loki could do nothing about it. Even if he was stupid enough to try and face Hela himself, he had no way of getting to Asgard, or even knowing where he was right now. He just laid there, bleeding, in the garbage.

Pathetic.

Loki was a  _ god, _ he couldn’t just lay among the scrap like this. He willed himself to stand up. Ugh, he felt terrible. But alas, he had no one to tell. No one to complain to, no one to manipulate. This was an awful change of pace for him. He didn’t like being alone. He trudged forward, through the garbage.

Before long, he noticed a city, on the horizon. Hopefully he could find some answers there. He began limping over in that direction, before realized that he would sooner bleed out than make it there on foot. He looked around, and noticed some ships, scrap harvesting vessels no doubt, looming overhead.

One landed nearby, and out of it exited some...creatures. Loki observed them from afar before engaging. They seemed to be a type of hunter-gatherer species, and didn’t seem very intelligent. But--whatever they were, they had a mode of transportation, which was what Loki was interested in.

Loki conjured his dagger. Nothing more could be done from up here. He could always stealthily jump aboard their ship, but Loki was impatient, and who knows how long it would take for them to return to the city on their own. Loki stood up straight, attempting to ignore the splitting pain in his side. He conjured up a not-ruined outfit over his current one, and stepped down to meet the creatures.

“Excuse me.” He said, wearing his usual wide grin, “May I request a lift on your ship?”

“Are you a fighter?” One of them, who Loki presumed to be the leader, said, “Or are you food?”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki said, bewildered. What a savage question to ask. This interaction was not going to end well.

“I smell blood on it!” One of them growled, “It will die soon.”

“It is food, then!” The leader said. The creatures pointed their weapons at Loki, who sighed, summoning both his daggers. He had really not wanted this to end in a fight. Loki got into a fighting stance, but winced. He would normally make quick work of these savages, but his wound seemed to be worse than he thought. These creatures didn’t look hard to trick, time for a little smoke and mirrors.

The creatures closed in on Loki, who raised his hands. The objects around him began to levitate, and swirl around him. 

“What’s going on?” The creatures yelled, before attacking Loki. Loki waved his hands at them, and the creatures stopped dead in their tracks.

“I can’t move!” One yelled..

“Me neither!” Yelled another.

Loki smiled, this was too easy. He lifted the ever-present spell upon him, turning his skin blue, and his eyes blood red. He hissed at the creatures, and began launching the levitating garbage at them.

“Demon! Run!” The creatures quickly fled, allowed Loki to take their ship.

Loki sighed, returning to his normal complexion. He hated resorting to that, it was _humiliating,_ returning to his blue form. But it did the job. He could be scary, when he wanted to be. He could be a lot of things.

Once on the ship he realized that it had a preset course, and was flying on some sort of autopilot system. It soon levitated from the ground, connected with it’s other segments, and flew off toward the city.

Loki sat on the floor, and caught his breath, trying to think of a course of action once he landed. His head was clouded from the pain, but he still needed a plan. Okay, okay, first he needed to find out where he was. And then, try and find a way off this disgusting planet. Stealing a ship wouldn’t be hard, he’d done it before. And he couldn’t be anywhere that far away from either Earth or Asgard, space which he knew fairly well.

But where would he go after that? Asgard? Of course not, Hela would kill him. He would be surprised if Asgard wasn’t in ruins already. His home, burned to the ground, his friends, and Thor, dead at Hela’s feet. Loki swallowed, he tried not to think about it. Where else. Earth? Loki had familiarized himself with the planet during his rule over Asgard, for tactical purposes. Of course, he would always go under a cloaking spell. But what then? He remembered the Avengers, and that green  _ beast _ . No, Loki would rather take his chances with Hela.

Perhaps, Jotunheim? Ha--Loki chuckled to himself. He could only  _ wonder  _ what had become of that realm after he nearly destroyed it. Or what his  _ reputation  _ must be. Still--the Jotuns were nothing if not creatures of their word, and Loki  _ was  _ the heir to the throne. Perhaps, if he ever wanted to stir up political drama, he would pay his people a visit.

The Homeworld of the Chitauri? Loki shuttered as the thought crossed his mind. No, never again.

Before he could continue his thoughts, the ship came to a halt. The doors opened, and Loki cast a spell over himself, disguising himself as one of those creatures. He emerged from the ship, blending in with other creatures nearby, who were all depositing scrap they had salvaged from the garbage piles. Loki quickly slipped away, and into the city.

Upon returning to his usual form, Loki looked around the city. Merchants, vendors, the usual. It didn’t seem to be too terribly advanced of a civilization, but they should be at least capable of space travel, Loki would just have to find a big enough ship to get away from the pull of those worm holes. Loki groaned, gripping his side. He would have to find one quickly, if he didn’t want to bleed out here on the streets.

He looked for the tallest building he could find. That usually meant the most important people lived there. And the most important people usually had the best ships.

He looked around, until he saw a large tower, appearing to be in the center of the city. It had faces carved into the side, one of which was still being built. Perfect, now all he had to do was get inside.

He walked over to the base of the tower. People, whom he could only assume were scrappers, walked in and out, delivering something to whatever beings could live inside.

Loki put a cloaking spell on himself, and followed one of them inside.

The interior of the building was quite strange. It didn't match the rest of the planet at all. Whoever lived here lived like a king while the other beings outside lived like peasants. Loki knew the type, but who was he, prince of the golden kingdom, to judge. The walls were brightly colored, with unique markings and symbols. It reminded Loki of pictures he had seen, in his youth. He tried to place the imagery. It reminded him of...the Celestials? Hm, Loki hadn’t thought of those beings in a while. He had read about them in his lessons, many hundreds of years ago. According to his schoolbooks, they were the founders of the universe, but had all died out over the eons. Interesting, Loki thought. He wondered what it could mean.

The scrapper he was followed was a woman, with long dark hair, with blue markings under her eyes.  She was dragging another unconscious creature at her feet. A large, beefy guy, that was a species that Loki was unfamiliar with. She seemed to be having no trouble dragging him, which Loki found impressive. She wore a blue cape, which seemed...familiar somehow, yet Loki couldn’t place it. Odd. He kept following her, wanting to figure out what about her and her outfit was so familiar. His mind began to wander, and he followed her up the elevator, and into a large, ornately decorated room.

The bright colors snapped Loki out of thoughts, and he realized he had gotten distracted and probably walked _ right  _ past that ships. Loki rolled his eyes. This was great. He began to turn around, but  _ really  _ wanted to place how he knew the cape. He just knew it would bother him forever if he couldn’t. Perhaps, if he could just reach out and touch it--

The scrapper whirled around, looking Loki dead on. Loki was surprised, and a bit nervous, until realizing that she still couldn’t see him. She looked around, staring daggers at the whole room, until deciding it was nothing and going back to her work, strapping the man she was dragging into a chair.

Strange...this woman couldn’t see through his illusions, but she could  _ detect  _ them, at least a little bit. She fascinated him, and he began to wonder who exactly she was. After strapping the man into the chair, she looked around the room again.

“Grandmaster!” She yelled, “Grandmaster, where are you? I’ve got another haul for you!”

The chair followed her as she walked, and Loki followed close by as well, not knowing what else to do.

Loki noticed the man in the chair began to wake up, and the chair began speaking to him.

“Fear not for you are found. You are home and there is no going back. No one leaves this place. But what is this place? The answer is; Sakaar.”

Hm, Loki thought. Sakaar? He had never heard of this place before. It was certainly nowhere near Asgard or Earth. Maybe getting to someplace he knew would be a bit more difficult than he anticipated.

“...here on Sakaar, you are significant, you are valuable. Here you are loved. and no one loves you more than The Grandmaster.”

Loki began to wonder about this Grandmaster fellow. He supposed he was in charge around here. Good to know, Loki thought. It was always good to take note of who you had to overthrow.

“Grandmast--oh, there you are.” The scrapper with the cape tapped the shoulder of an old man, who had his headphones in, dancing, and turned toward a window.

Beside her stood a shorter woman, with a large staff. She scowled at the scrapper. Loki assumed that she must be the Grandmaster’s bodyguard.

The Grandmaster turned off his music, and smiled at the scrapper, obviously happy to see her for some reason.

“Grandmaster, I’ve got another one for you.” She hurried him along to the man in the chair, “and his video is almost over, so hurry up.”

“Oh, goodie goodie!” He excitedly ran over to the man in the chair, who had snapped out of his trance, and was looking straight at the Grandmaster.

Loki looked at this "Grandmaster". He seemed...strange, which he noticed he was saying a lot about things on this planet. But the Grandmaster was the strangest of all. He wore elegant robes, and gave off strong, powerful vibes. But the way he moved, he seemed to act how an excited child with a new toy might. Loki watched on as he attempted to intimidate the man in the chair. It...wasn’t exactly working, but also, it was? The Grandmaster wasn’t so much “scaring” the man, but he treated him like an object, a plaything, which itself gave off a vibe of belittlement, and subtle hints of dread. The man seemed to want to crush the Grandmaster between his fists, but the Grandmaster felt no fear. He was entirely calm. It was chilling, yet Loki found himself intrigued. He was always attracted to power, and this was certainly no exception.

“Hm, take him away.” The Grandmaster said, and suddenly the man he was talking to was whisked away by the chair, screaming that the Grandmaster would pay for capturing him. The Grandmaster simply smiled, “Anyway, thank you Scrapper 142. I’ll have Topaz here transfer the units right away.”

“No problem,” Scrapper 142 said with a smile, as she patted the Grandmaster on the shoulder. The Grandmaster seemed just delighted by her, and Loki found this very confusing. He was powerful, and yet... totally at ease. Loki wished to know more, to observe him longer, but he found that Scrapper 142 was walking away, and he needed to choose who to follow.

Both of them intrigued Loki, but he could only pick one. But this “Scrapper 142” would probably be headed to her ship, and with any luck Loki could steal that or another one. So, sadly, he found himself turning away from the Grandmaster, and following her.

Loki walked away, pondering. The Grandmaster seemed powerful, but how powerful? And how did he get this way? He seemed ancient, and Loki wondered how he had never heard of him before. However on the other hand, Loki wasn’t sure  _ what  _ corner of the galaxy he was in, so he supposed that everything he might see here would be foreign to him.

Loki had almost made it to the elevator, when he felt….a hand, on his back. Loki whirled around. It was… The Grandmaster? How did--how could--could he  _ see  _ him? Could he see him this entire time?

“Hey!” The Grandmaster said, almost surprised, lightly patting his back, “I  _ knew  _ there was something here.”

Loki studied the Grandmaster’s face. No, no he couldn’t see him. But he noticed  _ something _ . Loki scolded himself. His magic was weak, he was getting sloppy. And the Grandmaster seemed to be a powerful sorcerer in his own right.

Loki stood up straight, trying not to show any weakness. No smoke and mirrors here, he would have to rely on his silver tongue to get out of this one. He lowered his cloaking spell.

“H-Hello.” Loki said, trying not to panic.

“Well would you look at that!” The Grandmaster smiled, absolutely thrilled, “You don’t see that every day! A little, um--man?--appearing out of nowhere!”

“Yes, well, it’s not every day someone sees someone like you, Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster beamed at him. Ah, Loki thought, so he was a sucker for compliments. He could use that. With any luck, he would make it out of this alive.

“Well, ah, who are you?” The Grandmaster said, with the utmost curiosity. There was absolutely no malicious intent in his voice at all, but Loki still found himself terrified.

“Yes, well, my name is Loki, and I seem to be lost. I was simply trying not to attract attention, but I’ll be leaving.”

The Grandmaster grabbed his shoulder, “Hey, what’s the rush? Stay a while.”

Loki could tell that that was a command, not a suggestion. “I’m sorry, but I really must be getting home--”

“Oh, I’m afraid not!” The Grandmaster smiled charismatically, “Nobody leaves Sakaar. Nobody  _ can _ . Except me, of course. But why would I ever want to? I  _ made  _ this place after all.” He chuckled.

This worried Loki. Nobody could leave Sakaar? What did that mean? He needed more answers, and The Grandmaster seemed to be the best place to get them at the moment.

“Oh, well that  _ is  _ unfortunate.” Loki said, showing no weakness, “Well--how about you tell me that story, over a drink?”

“Ha!” The Grandmaster laughed, “You’re trying to get me to forget that I just caught you spying on me!”

“What?” Loki panicked, the jig was up, “No, I wasn’t--”

“But, I do like the idea of discussing this over a drink. Topaz!” he called over to his bodyguard, “Bring me and him a drink!”

The Grandmaster froze, looking down at Loki, “It is ‘him’ right? Sorry it’s--it’s the hair. I get a little confused. I try not to assume with you mortals.”

The term “mortals” ground Loki’s gears more than he thought it would. But, he was in no position to correct him. “Yes, it’s ‘him’, right now. But it varies.”

“Excellent!” The Grandmaster put his arm around Loki, “Topaz, get  _ him _ a drink!”

The Grandmaster whisked Loki away, to the bar, and sat him down next to him. The Grandmaster sat, rather flamboyantly, with his legs crossed and his head resting on his hand. “So.” he began. “Why were you spying on me? Trying to steal something, maybe?”

“No!” Loki lied, “It’s like I said, I was lost, and trying not to attract attention.”

“Hmm…..” The Grandmaster mulled over this, and lowered his voice to a whisper, Well it seems to me, Loki, like you don’t belong up here. In my tower.”

Loki’s eyes widened. Shit. This would require some quick thinking, which was a skill Loki was not overly known for.

The Grandmaster continued, as he sipped his bright blue drink through a curly straw,  “But, I won’t tell anyone. So long as you tell me something.”

Loki swallowed, taking a sip of his drink, to seem polite, “A-And what’s that?”

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” He pointed at Loki, “Because I know my Sakaarians, and I know that  _ you  _ are not from around here.”

Loki knew his life depended on his next few words. But, he was the god of stories after all. He may be dreadful at thinking on his feet, but he could spin a tale if he needed to. “I...am the King of my home planet, Jotunheim. But, my ship--it crashed landed here. I desperately need a way back home.”

“Ohhh, a king!” The Grandmaster seemed fascinated, though still not yet impressed. “Well your highness, if you’re a king where is your kingly entourage? How come you were snooping around my palace like a thief?”   
“Killed!” He blurted out, “In the crash. I was lucky to survive. I wasn’t sure if this planet was hostile, so I thought it would be best to stay hidden.”

The Grandmaster smiled his cat-like smile again. “So you can steal a ship from me, hm?”

Shit. Shit shit shit. “Um--well--”

The Grandmaster laughed, “Oh it’s alright! No harm done, yet, and I believe you can provide me with a great deal of entertainment.”

Loki was getting nervous, “Entertainment?”

“Mhmmmmm” The Grandmaster smiled again, rocking in his chair, “So, King Loki, answer me this, what other little tricks do you have up your sleeve.”

“W-Well--"  Loki sat there, shaking, wondering what to do. The Grandmaster rolled his eyes.

“Sh!” The Grandmaster suddenly grabbed Loki’s face, and Loki nearly had a heart attack, “You’re so nervous! Calm down! I’m not going to kill you. That is, unless you upset me.”

Loki gulped, but maybe The Grandmaster was telling the truth. Loki calmed his nerves. Maybe the danger _was_ all in his head. The Grandmaster hadn't yet given him any REAL reason to be nervous. He thought for a moment more, before waving his hand. The Grandmaster looked down to see that his drink had been refilled, right before his eyes.

The Grandmaster gasped with delight, and clapped his hands. “Wonderful! Wonderful! I love it!”

Loki smiled, maybe this was going better than he thought. “So, may I borrow a ship capable of leaving this planet?”

The Grandmaster waved his hand carelessly, “Oh, maybe, we’ll see--oh, oh!” behind them, party music began playing, and people around them started dancing. “Dance with me!”

The Grandmaster stood up, grabbed Loki’s hand, and whisked him to the dance floor. The Grandmaster began mingling with the crowd, and dancing.

“I don’t dance--” Loki began, before being hushed by The Grandmaster.

“Nonsense!” The Grandmaster said, “You’re a sorcerer, just put a spell on yourself or something.”

Loki sighed, before...attempting, to dance. He had been  _ taught  _ to dance, formally, on Asgard, but that was a much different type of dancing than this. Mostly ballroom dancing, for big events. This was...more freeform. Less rules. People were just...moving. Loki couldn’t have possibly  _ dreamed  _ that this is how this day would go when he woke up this morning. He began looking around, observing what everybody else was doing. He tried to mimic it as best he could. Soon he was doing it-- _ dancing _ . The Grandmaster smiled at him, and the two danced to this rather catchy synthetic music. It was odd--but Loki found himself having fun.

“I think this is going well!” The Grandmaster said to him, over the music.

Loki raised an eyebrow, but was still dancing, “What is?”

The Grandmaster gestured to both of them, “Our date.”

“Our wh--” Before Loki could answer, he began to feel very lightheaded. He looked at the floor. There were drops of blood around where he was dancing. Shit--his stupid stab wound. His dancing was making it worse. His stupid daggers, they were made to cut flesh like butter. Now he knew how it felt to meet their business end. He couldn’t let The Grandmaster see, not now, when things were going so well. But he needed help, and fast. Maybe he could tell The Grandmaster he got his wound in the crash. Yes, that would work--

Loki passed out on the dance floor.

“Oh dear.” The Grandmaster said, amidst the gasps of the crowd, “Topaz, what do make of this?”

Topaz walked over to Loki and kicked him. “Looks like your date just died.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol this fanfiction is like, stupid lol why do u guys want to read it

Loki woke up with a gasp. What--where was he? His surroundings were unfamiliar. But he was in a large room. A bedroom, with large windows, expensive furniture, and extravagant tapestries hanging on the walls. The room was slightly cluttered, with the most beautiful silks he had ever seen adoring various surfaces. Loki knew this had to be The Grandmasters room. Which meant that he had brought him here after he--Loki looked down, his shirt and coat were gone, and he was wearing a very soft and comfortable muted yellow robe. His stab wound had been bandaged. Loki was thankful for that, but  _ oh  _ what a mess he found himself in this time. Sitting here in The Grandmaster’s room, helpless.

Loki looked around, now where had The Grandmaster gotten off to. Loki noticed that he wasn't currently lying on The Grandmaster’s bed, but instead he was on a sort of padded ottoman.

“Oh!” The Grandmaster entered the room, “Oh thank goodness you’re awake! You were out for quite a while! I was about to toss you in the trash, truth be told.”

“Toss me in the trash?”

“Well, yeah, to be fair we only just met, and having a dead guy in my room is a real,” he cleared his throat, and made a face, “a real turnoff.”

Loki furrowed his eyebrows. What a strange man.

“Well, thank you for healing me, but I really must be going--” Loki tried to stand up, but The Grandmaster held him back.

“Hey, hey! Sit for a while.” The Grandmaster offered him some water, which he took gladly. “So, I assumed this happened in your crash?”

Loki nodded, “Yes. I didn’t want to, um, show weakness around a being like yourself.”

The Grandmaster smirked, “Right choice. But, besides that, how was our date going?”

“Wh--” Was all Loki could manage to say. That’s right--shortly before passing out, The Grandmaster had asked how their  _ date  _ was going. They were on a  _ date _ ? Loki thought that he was bargaining for his life, but it was a  _ date _ ?

The shock quickly disappeared from Loki’s face, and he smiled. This changes everything. If he was smart--which he was--Loki could use this to get anything he wants. Seduction was an art he had mastered over the years.

“It went well. I was having fun.”

“Excellent!” The Grandmaster smiled. “Well, hurry along.”

“Hurry along where?”

“Our next date. My Contest of Champions. They won’t start without me. So get dressed, and we’ll go down together!”

Loki chuckled, simply at the absurdity of this whole situation, “Get dressed? In what?”

“I noticed your old clothes were ruined, so I got you some new ones.” The Grandmaster gestured to some clothes which had been laid out for Loki that he hadn’t noticed. There were...blue and yellow? That was an odd departure for Loki. He was usually a fan of darker colors, especially black and green, and occasionally gold.

“What’s wrong, you don’t like them?” The Grandmaster seemed a bit disappointed.

But Loki’s mind flashed back to his sister, on Earth. Her black and green outfit the last thing he saw before being ripped away from his brother and his home forever. He pictured Thor dead at Hela’s feet once more. Loki touched his wound gently. Perhaps a change was what he needed right now.

“No, they’re fine.”

Loki got up to change, but noticed the Grandmaster was still staring at him. “Do you...mind?”

“Mind what?” The Grandmaster said.

Loki frowned, and turned himself invisible.

“Oh! You’re no fun!” The Grandmaster said playfully. “I’ll meet you down there. See you in a bit, doll.”

Loki couldn’t help but be offended. “Doll”? Who did he think he was talking to? Loki was a  _ king,  _ he had sat on the throne of Asgard only  _ yesterday _ ! But, he had to remind himself, he didn’t sit on the throne today. That throne was probably gone.

Loki sighed. He supposed he was “doll” now. But, he reminded himself, there were worse things that he could be. Dolls were taken care of. Well kept, given attention, put on display for all to see. Yes, there were far worse things than being a doll.

After The Grandmaster left, Loki undid the invisibility spell and looked for a mirror. Upon finding one in the bathroom, Loki noticed that he looked just  _ dreadful _ . His eyes were sunken and tired, and his skin was turning a unique shade of pale bluish grey, which often happened when he was feeling weak. And his hair--oh his  _ hair!  _ It lay in a tangled greasy mess upon his shoulders.

Seducing The Grandmaster while looking like this was going to be a task, for sure. He splashed some water on his face. It was going to come down to body language on this one.

Loki put on the outfit that The Grandmaster had left for him, and found that it was...tighter than he usually went for. Loki, despite his large ego, could sometimes be...uncomfortable with his appearance. He usually hid behind long coats and high collars to remedy this. But it seemed there would be none of that today. Oh well, all the better to flaunt his figure, he supposed.

Loki sighed at the lack of gold on his outfit. Gold had always been a status symbol on Asgard. The more you wore the more important you were. But he supposed it was only fitting that he wear none, since Asgard was gone and their king had fallen. The image of Thor dead at Hela’s feet flashed through his mind again. He wasn’t going to get used to that.

After Loki had gotten dressed, he went to find The Grandmaster down in the Colosseum. He eventually found him in the highest box overlooking the Colosseum. No surprise there, he thought. He waved to The Grandmaster, who excitedly beckoned him over. “Hi! You missed the fight with my champion, unfortunately, but there’s still a lot of show left! Sit down, sit down.”

Loki sat down a few feet from The Grandmaster on the large sofa, but The Grandmaster quickly scuttled over to him, sitting very close and putting his arm around Loki.

“So, what is this contest, exactly?” Loki asked.

“Well!” The Grandmaster began, “I take any fighters that drop down on Sakaar--and make them fight each other!”

Loki chuckled, “Why?” he asked playfully.

The Grandmaster shrugged, “I dunno. I thought it would be a fun little game. I  _ love _ games. All sorts!”

Loki gazed over at The Grandmaster. If it was games he was after, the god of mischief knew how to deliver.

They watched the next fight begin. a man made of rock entered the one side.

“Ah--” Loki pointed, “That’s a Kronan!”

“Oh, oh yeah, his name’s Korg, he’s  _ very  _ nice, and a  _ very  _ good fighter. He’s one of my favorites.”

At the other end, a large dwarf entered, wielding a large axe.

“Oh, oh!” Loki pointed to the other warrior, “He’s from Nidavellir! I toured there once, during my studies.”

The Grandmaster seemed impressed, “You sure know a lot about these guys. Doesn’t make a difference to me, they all just plop down in the garbage, like everything else.”

Loki made a face. He supposed that was true, but how could the Grandmaster be so content, not even  _ knowing  _ what these creatures were capable of. What they could  _ do _ , given the right match ups.

The battle was bloody, but Korg eventually came out on top. Loki admitted, this  _ was  _ fun to watch. All the fanfare  _ did  _ make it seem like a game, as opposed to a real “battle”.

“So, how was  _ that _ ?” The Grandmaster patted Loki on the shoulder.

“Interesting. I enjoyed it.” Loki answered.

“Excellent, because there is much more to see! These contests can go on all day, if I will it. Ah, and where are my manners…”  He snapped his fingers, and suddenly servants brought drinks to them.

Loki could get used to this, he thought.

“Yes, but, hold on,” Loki said, “Can I see the matchups for these fights?”

“Hm? I suppose so.”

The Grandmaster handed Loki a tablet with various names and species on them. Loki smiled, and rearranged a few. “I’m pairing them up based on their abilities. You’ll get a much more interesting show this way.”

The rest of the Contest of Champions went on in much the same way as that. There was a bloody fight, and the crowd cheered. Soon, the drinks piled up, and Loki found himself getting just a bit woozy.

“So--” The Grandmaster said to Loki, booping him on the nose, “How are you liking  _ this _ date?”

“Well, I’m not on the floor yet, so I’d say it’s an improvement.”

“Well if the aim is for you to not to end up on your back--” the Grandmaster massaged Loki’s back, “you may be a bit disappointed.”

Loki an eyebrow. Ah, there it was. He knew the Grandmaster would be making that request sooner or later. Loki mulled it over, taking into consideration both his brain and his hips. On the one hand, he had had a long day yesterday, and getting rawed by a galactic diety would be the perfect way to unwind. But, he had his pride after all, he wasn't  _ that  _ easy. Had mastered the art of seduction, and he knew not to play all his cards at once. Loki huffed. He supposed patience was a virtue.

He smiled, leaned over to The Grandmaster, and whispered in his ear, “Not on the second date.”

The Grandmaster smiled, and continued rubbing his back, “Such a tease.”

They drank, and talked, for while after that. Maybe all day, even. And the more drunk he got, the more he liked The Grandmaster. Loki wasn't sure what time it was--did Sakaar even have “time?”--when he finally became a little nauseous. Loki scolded himself for not remembering to use his magic to prevent such things. He hadn't been intending on drinking this much.

“That's it, I've had enough.” Loki admitted. Any more and he would vomit, which was one of the more un-sexy things he could do.

The Grandmaster laughed at his red face and blurry eyes. “You look it alright. Yes, let's go to bed. Stay in my room tonight?”

“What?”

“You won't get very far wandering around Sakaar by yourself like that. There are a  _ lot  _ of unsavory characters out there, I should know.” he smiled and twirled Loki's hair, “Come stay in my room again, you'll be safer there than anywhere else on Sakaar, promise.”

Loki sighed, but agreed. He knew he would be fine in The Grandmaster’s room, and he didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. But so much for playing hard to get.

The Grandmaster stood up, and offered his hand to Loki. Loki took it, and stumbled as he stood up. He had had  _ far  _ too much to drink. The Grandmaster laughed, and went to catch him, but Loki assured him that he was fine enough to walk, at least. Probably.

The Grandmaster led Loki into his room.

“I had them bring you sleeping clothes.”

“Thank you.” Loki said, admiring his new blue silk pajamas. He went to put them on when…

“Do you  _ mind? _ ” Loki snapped at the staring Grandmaster.

The Grandmaster shook his head, and Loki put his hands on his hips. “Is this just a game to you?”

The Grandmaster smiled, delighted by himself. “Isn't everything?”

Loki rolled his eyes, and turned invisible to change. Mostly out of stubbornness than anything else. He was a  _ lady _ (sometimes) and Loki didn't care who The Grandmaster was, he wasn't about to drop his pants in front of him just yet.

“Such a tease!” The Grandmaster chuckled, before getting up himself, and beginning to change.

My, Loki thought, bold of him. He admired the Grandmaster’s body. It was quite nice, but Loki felt a little hypocritical, gawking at him like that.

A few moments later, The Grandmaster sat on the edge of his bed, legs apart, leaning back, waiting for Loki to reappear. Loki sighed, looking at him longingly. He was very...good looking.

Oh alright, Loki thought to himself, he would give the old man something.

Loki reappeared, sitting on The Grandmaster’s lap.

“Mmm,” The Grandmaster purred, “Welcome back.”

“Shut up and kiss me, old man.”

Loki held The Grandmaster’s face in his hand, and kissed him. The Grandmaster hummed sweetly. A moment later, the Grandmaster broke the kiss, and worked his way down Loki’s jawline. Loki gasped, scratching into the Grandmaster’s back. The Grandmaster bit into Loki’s neck, which drove him wild. Loki continued his scratching, and grinded his hips into the Grandmasters, with an almost animalistic hunger.

“My, my” The Grandmaster whispered to him, as he nibbled his neck, “Who taught the king of Jotunheim to move like that?”

Loki smirked, “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said a horse?”

The Grandmaster stopped nibbling his neck and burst out laughing. Loki nearly fell off his lap as the Grandmaster rubbed the tears from his eyes.

“Oh come now, it’s not that funny.” Loki found himself getting more red in the face than he already was.

“I can’t tell--I can’t tell if you’re serious--or just really drunk!” The Grandmaster wheezed, falling backwards onto the bed.

Loki flopped over and laid on the bed next to him. “I am serious--sort of. My sexual history is a bit...strange, I’ll admit. I’ve had rebellious phases in my youth.”

“Fucking a  _ horse  _ was not a rebellious phase, Loki!”

“Oh no, no, the horse fucked  _ me _ .”

The Grandmaster continued wheezing with laughter, “Loki--Loki stop, you’re going to kill me.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “Would it make you feel better to know that  _ I  _ was also a horse, at the time?”

The Grandmaster lost it, “No way! You’re drunk! None of this is true!”

“It’s true, I can take any form I like. In fact--” Loki, smiled and transformed into the Grandmaster. “Hm? What do you think?”

“Say!” The Grandmaster stopped laughing, and admired his double, “I like it! You’ll have to save that one for...later.”

Loki turned back into himself, playfully hitting the Grandmaster’s arm. “You  _ narcissist! _ ”

“Guilty.” The Grandmaster smiled coyly. “But you really  _ are  _ a master sorcerer, hm? Can you really turn into anything?”

“Mostly. But even I have limits.”

The Grandmaster imagined in the possibilities, and got quite excited. He snuggled up next to Loki on the bed, “How lucky I must be. My strange little creature, falling right out of the sky, and into my arms.”

Loki’s guilt haunted him. He couldn’t allow himself to be happy here. Not while so many were suffering. “Alas, I must return to my people soon.”

The Grandmaster gripped him tightly, “We’ll see.”

Loki’s worry was drowned out by drowsiness, and he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I read the things I write before I post them? The answer, no

Loki awoke in The Grandmaster’s bed, sweaty and hungover. Loki massaged his temples, and glanced over to The Grandmaster laying on the other side of the bed.

Loki sat up, he needed a shower. Loki wandered into the bathroom, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Yikes, he looked even worse today than he did yesterday. His hair was still a tangled mess. He had regained a bit more color, though, but his face was sweaty and shiny. If the Grandmaster saw him like this he would probably dump him on the spot.

He removed the bandages covering his stab wound. His regenerative healing ability was closing the wound quite nicely, and he assumed that by this afternoon it would be nothing more than a thin scar. He took a shower, and oh how  _ good  _ it felt to wash his hair. Once he was finished, he peered back into the bedroom. The Grandmaster was still asleep. Good, he thought. He might not like what Loki was about to do.

Loki dug around through The Grandmaster’s drawers. Ah, what to wear, what to wear. It didn’t matter, really, as he was going to change their appearance with his magic anyway, he was really just looking for whatever looked most comfortable.

After finding something suitable, he went back to the mirror and reflexively put on one of his usual clothing spells. The usual, black and green, long overcoat, gold accents. But for some reason, they made him...uncomfortable. So much so that he lifted the spell almost immediately.

His signature colors made him sick. They just reminded him of his sister, and the life he was avoiding returning to. He felt almost _shameful_ wearing gold. Gold, a symbol of the very people he was abandoning. No, no he would have to come up with something new. He tired conjuring a blue and yellow look, similar to what he wore yesterday. Hm, the blue was growing on him. It brought out his eyes and reminded him of his mother, who wore blue often. Loki had always hated the color blue, on principle. He couldn’t stomach the sight of his own blue skin most of the time, but maybe it was time to let old prejudices go.

Next he got rid of the coat. He never even knew why he always chose these long concealing jackets. His figure wasn’t bad, and he was sure his new  _ beau  _ would love to see it. But, as soon as it was gone, he was reminded why he always hid behind his coats. Loki looked at himself and scoffed. He was far too skinny. His shoulders, hips, everything, were far too  _ dainty _ . When he and Thor were small, Thor, would tease him for his appearance, saying things like, “Even your masculine form has a woman’s figure!” to which even Lady Sif would respond, “No, I would  _ faint _ if I or any of the Asgardian women I know had hips that small.”

And it wasn’t just the teasing, either. Whenever they fought, Thor, with his superior physical strength, would shove him into the ground, and mock him for his twig-like arms. Even as recently as the past few days, Thor had no problem with shoving Loki around, simply because he  _ could  _ and because Loki was too  _ weak  _ to stop him.

Loki chased the thoughts from his mind. It wasn’t good to taint the memory of the dead like that. Thor didn’t mean it. He never did, and he had since apologized for saying such things to him. Loki loved Thor, despite his brutish attitude. And besides, without Thor’s mocking, he may have never gone into sorcery. It was all for the best, really.

Loki loosened his outfit, ever so slightly.

Loki returned to the bedroom, and found The Grandmaster, waking up and getting ready.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Loki asked, kissing him on the cheek.

“Another party.”

Loki scoffed, “ _ Another  _ party? Is that all you do here on Sakaar?”

“Of course. It’s fun, and I have nothing better to do. Why would I want to do anything else?”

“Don’t you ever...have politics you need to attend to? For being the ruler of a planet?”

“Oh!” The Grandmaster smiled, “Of course I do! Oh, yes, excellent, hopefully you’ll get to see  _ that  _ side of my job today.”

\--

Loki didn’t know exactly what he expected, but it wasn’t this. Loki stood behind The Grandmaster, who was sitting in one of his armchairs. With a large stick in his hand. He had just melted the man sitting in the chair. Loki was horrified, but impressed. It took a certain kind of power to show absolutely no emotion--except a sort of childish glee--when murdering someone who had wronged you.

“See?” The Grandmaster smiled up at him, “I do politics.”

Loki gulped, “Y-yes, I suppose you do.”

“So,” The Grandmaster cooed, “What now. A drink?”

Loki chuckled, “I try to wait at least twenty four hours between my bouts of heavy drinking.” Loki considered his still pounding headache, “Actually, perhaps something mild. I’m still hungover.”

“You heard him,” The Grandmaster said to Topaz.

Topaz yelled at the bartender, “Get The Grandmaster his usual, and the floozy something weak.”

Loki furrowed his eyebrows as he looked up at Topaz, “I don’t think she likes me.”

“Who, Topaz? Oh well. She’s not usually too fond of my boyfriends. But she won’t bother you as long as I tell her not to.”

“Does she like...anyone?”

The Grandmaster shrugged, “She likes me.”

Loki sighed, leaning against a wall and sipping his drink. He wondered how partying every day didn’t get boring, but to each their own, he supposed. He watched The Grandmaster from across the room, mingling with his friends of varying species and appearances. The Grandmaster seemed to natural in these social situations. Loki supposed he was doomed to be a wallflower forever. He loved attention, but getting it? That was the hard part.

Loki peered around the party. It was that Scrapper again! He began walking towards her. This would be his chance to figure out what was so special about  _ her _ .

“Loki!” The Grandmaster beckoned him over before he could get to her.

Loki sighed. He supposed she would have to wait, and began walking over to the Grandmaster instead, “Yes? What is it?”

The Grandmaster put his arm around Loki’s hips, “This is him, I found him in my throne room the other day, spying on me.”

His friends gawked at Loki, who couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. He loved attention and he loved compliments, but he  _ didn’t  _ love being flaunted like an accessory.

“Yes, well, I’m only staying for a while, then I really must  _ be going _ .”

The Grandmaster rolled his eyes, “He’s just shy, he loves it here.”

Loki grunted.

“Come, dance with me.” The Grandmaster whisked Loki away, and soon, they were dancing.

The Grandmaster stood behind Loki, his arms around his waist, kissing his neck, slowly grinding his hips into his. Loki’s face felt hot. How can he just  _ do  _ this, right in public, with everyone watching? Loki looked around, and found that no one was watching. Ha, of course. The Grandmaster must do this sort of thing so often it must not surprise anyone here anymore. Loki sighed, and tried to let himself relax and enjoy himself. He had been on edge a lot since he had arrived on Sakaar, and all this stress couldn’t have been good for him.

Loki relaxed his nerves, and continued gently swaying back and forth, enjoying the Grandmaster’s touch, his hot breath on his neck, his hand around his hips. Loki felt safe, he felt taken care of, he even found himself feeling...happy.

But, as Loki did whenever he found himself getting happy, found the powerful urge to  _ run  _ from that happiness.

“Enough,” Loki took a step away from The Grandmaster, “Grandmaster, please. If you care about me at all,  _ please  _ promise that I can leave this planet. My people--they...they must be missing me.”

The Grandmaster raised an eyebrow, and put his hand on his hip, “You are not a prisoner here. You never were. But answer me this,” He sat down at a table, and beckoned Loki to sit beside him. Loki continued standing. “Why do you want to leave?”

Loki was puzzled. What did he mean? “I’m a king, I can’t just abandon my people.”

“Why not?” The Grandmaster continued, “You don’t seem to be the terribly sympathetic type, and  your people will never find you here. You will be treated far better here than anywhere else. So what is so special about out there? What do you have there that you could not have here? Is there a person? Someone back home, who you would miss?”

Thor’s corpse flashed through Loki’s mind, “N-no.”

The Grandmaster smiled, “Then why go back? You will be loved here far more than you would be anywhere else. By me and all of Sakaar.”

Loki bit his lip. He was right. The Grandmaster was exactly right, and Loki couldn’t stand it. There was nothing he could do about Asgard’s doom. Going back would just be flying to his death. And here...he was happy. Happier than he had been in a long time. Asgard was a lost cause. Thor was dead. All his friends were dead. And the people must hate him for lying to them. Even if he did go back. He had...no one. But then again, did he ever?

Loki sighed. Staying here was the cowards way out. But Loki supposed he was just the biggest coward of them all.

Loki held out his hand to The Grandmaster. “Come,”

“Where are we going?”

“To finish our dance.”

The Grandmaster smiled, and he and Loki danced together for hours. Loki found he enjoyed dancing to this kind of music. On Asgard, music consisted mostly of long classical ballads. Musical masterpieces, but painfully dreary. Loki had heard other music in his travels, but he never had the time to enjoy it. Not like this, anyway. Nothing he had ever done was like this.

Hours later, Loki found himself dozing off on The Grandmaster’s shoulder.

“Tired?” The Grandmaster smiled, kissing his forehead, “Maybe we should...go to bed.”

Loki smiled, this part always excited him. If he had planned on staying here, on Sakaar, he might as well prove it. “Lead the way, Grandmaster.”

Loki had not made love with anyone in far too long. Who could blame him? He had been busy. Ruling a kingdom disguised as your father was a full time job. No, Loki hadn’t had the chance to (excusing the expression)  _ blow off some steam _ in a while. So his long night with The Grandmaster was well spent.

“Ah,” The Grandmaster moaned, “You bite like a viper, my dear.”

Loki was pinned to the bed, the Grandmaster pulling his hair. Sex with Loki, as the Grandmaster was quickly realizing, had developed into much more of a close-range combat-zone than he had been expecting. But he wasn’t complaining. Any pain dealt to him he simply returned to Loki tenfold, which also seemed to be was Loki was aiming for. Even though Loki was bottoming, the Grandmaster felt as if the he was oddly still the one in control, which was a nice change of pace for him. It kept the Grandmaster on his toes, to say the least.

But late that night, long after they had finished, Loki couldn’t help but lay awake. The Grandmaster lay, snoring beside him, and Loki, feeling satisfied and drowsy, couldn’t help but think of the suffering of his people. The pain they must be in. It may have all started as a lie, but he had sworn to protect them. To lead them, as their king. Where did they think he was? Probably dead. Met with the same fate as Thor. Dying heroically to protect Asgard with his last breath. And where was he? Becoming the next floozy of the man who pitted creatures against one another in an arena for sport. For nothing more than the  _ fun  _ of it all.

Loki looked over to the sleeping Grandmaster. He could leave, right now. But he didn’t. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was scared. The Grandmaster, as intimidating as he was, had taken a liking to him. Loki was  _ safe _ with him, as long as he kept fucking him. Not only that, but he could live by his side as ruler of this planet.

Loki had done terrible things in the past. He knew he had. But now...perhaps most despicable of all, he was here, and  _ enjoying _ himself.

Loki was afraid of what was out there. He was afraid of his sister, and other beings that might wish him harm, and...he was afraid of himself. He spent the last four years hiding from his own face. Hiding from the monster that destroyed New York and brought ruin to Jotunheim. Hiding from what the people of Asgard must think of him. Of what his parents would think of him, if they could see him. Of what Thor must think of him.

The Grandmaster snorted in his sleep, and Loki looked over at him. If he was going to stay here, then none of that mattered. The Grandmaster didn’t know what he had done. And Loki suspected that even if he did, he wouldn’t care much. Loki closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the faces of his dying people, to try and sleep. He had a clean slate here on Sakaar, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to use it.


End file.
